![]() 09/20: It's that time of the year again - Kids are back in school, the weather is (hopefully) starting to cool down, and thousands of people across the world have returned to their BSF classes for a new year's study. This year, we're studying the book of Romans. Even though I've read it several times and can quote some well-known verses from it, I really don't know much about the book as a whole. And I'm looking forward to having that change. ![]() 09/13: As I stood quietly outside the cabin where I would be spending the next few nights, staring curiously at the seemingly endless tapestry of trees and mountains, I suddenly realized that it had really been a long time - a very, very long time. For as long as I can remember, one of my favorite ways of spending time with God has been in "secret" places by myself, away from all distractions and usually surrounded by some sort of natural beauty. During church retreats, I would often "disappear" during free time to sit quietly in the forest and admire God's creation. At home and in college, I would sometimes spend hours in the backyard gazing at stars or in a garden with my phone turned off, taking a break from the busyness of daily life that can be as distracting as it is exciting. ![]() Of course, church retreats are about not only getting away fom distractions, but also focusing on God and on each other. It's not that God is physically more present when we're high up in a mountain, but rather that stepping into a different environment allows us to see things from a fresh perspective, whether it's our own lives, our priorities, our relationships, or our faith. When caught up in our daily grinds, it's way too easy to limit our view of God and settle with letting things go on as they are, when in reality there is so much more that we're missing out on. One of the main topics that our speaker, Chris Rattay, focused on was courage - Courage to live out our faith in a deeper and more practical way. It's too easy for us to focus instead on fear - Fear of failure, fear of embarassment, fear of loss, fear of rejection... the list can definitely go on. But that fear keeps us from joy - Great joy in knowing our God-given purpose and in doing His work. We were created to glorify Him, and only in doing so do we find true satisfaction. I came to see that, in a practical sense, my view of God is incredibly limited. I tell people and know somewhere in the back of my head that God is good and infinitely powerful. But my prayers and my actions usually show that due to my lack of courage, I'd rather just let life go on as it is and avoid the challenges associated with trusting God to work in and around me. A brother among us has a physical need that I and many others had known about for many months. But not once had I prayed for him, putting into action my knowledge that God has the power to heal. When I joined Chris in praying for him for the first time, it seemd like such a natural thing to do. But surely we can't always depend on guest speakers to guide our prayers; can't God work through members of our own congregation in the same ways He works through Chris? Clearly there are needs among us every day. But why is it that even though we gather every week during Sunday service and small group, our conversations rarely involve sharing our needs, praying for one another, and taking action to help each other? Why is it that even though we believe that the Holy Spirit is among us when we meet, our interactions with each other are often no different from those among unbelievers? I'm sure there are many answers. But one that stands out most to me is apathy. I see it in so many people around me, and the reason it's so clear to me is that I see it in myself too. Over the past several years, many things in life have drained me, even ministry. It's not because I have been overworked, but rather because I haven't experienced the growth needed to sustain me through them. Several foundations have crumbled, and several promises have remained hopelessly unfilfilled. As a result, I've stepped down from a lot more things than I've agreed to take on, and when I do agree to accept a new task, I do so with excessive caution. While it's easiest (and not entirely wrong) to blame my environment for my current state, I know that if God is real and all-powerful, then surely I myself am not blameless. I've come to understand more and more that effective ministry should be seen not as simply supporting a cause, but rather investing in it. Every person or group has to operate with a limited amount of resources, whether it's time, energy, talents, or finances, and in order to maximize those resources, it's crucial to focus them in the right places rather than aimlessly jump around doing whatever people ask. When investments are made wisely, the result is an increased chance of both success in the ministry and fulfillment at a personal level. But in the same way, when investments are made without wise consideration, the result is an increased chance of a stagnant or failing ministry, not to mention personal burnout. Yes, God is strong enough to sustain every ministry (especially given that it exists ultimately for Him!). But He also expects us to wisely invest the resources He has given to us for the good of the church and His kingdom. I say all this because I, along with too many people I know, often approach our Christian walks and ministries without a the mentality of an investor. We either say no for selfish reasons or say yes simply because we feel bad if nobody else steps up. We cruise along by our own strength and eventually arrive at our current state of apathy, maintaining the apparent "requirements" of a Christian lifestyle but not enjoying the vibrance of a true fulfilling Christian life, rather accepting things in their current state as the way things should be and will always be. Yes, as hard as it is for many to believe, Christian life should be vibrant and fulfilling! We just need courage to believe it and act on it. And when we lose that courage, we need people around us to reignite the fire. Effective ministry and effective Christian life is a combination of receiving (both from God and from people) and giving back. The reason for much of the apathy around me is that there isn't a proper balance of the two. So what does this all have to do with the retreat? It was essentially the heart of my prayers during the many hours I spent alone. I gazed at the stars, came surprisingly close to a family of deer, waited out a big rainstorm in a portable restroom, and looked at my church from the precious but often overlooked perspective of an outsider. I won't write all the details here, but a few weeks ago I found a potential ministry opportunity that I believe is a great investment, addressing both the short-term and long-term needs of myself, at least a few individuals around me, and the church as a whole. During the retreat, I had a perfect opportunity to speak with our pastor, who supported my ideas and gave me some tips to bring them closer to reality. While spending time alone in prayer, I became even more certain that this is something I really need to actively seize opportunities to pursue. Of course, there will be many challenges, some of which will involve overcoming my own fears and weaknesses. (What's a ministry without putting faith completely in God?) My challenges now involve not only putting together the framework for the ministry, but also maintaining persistence in doing so without stumbling into laziness, fear, hopelessness, or the apathy that so easily enslaves me. God is bigger than all these things; if He isn't, then what I wish to do will ultimately serve no purpose. And since He is, surely He will guide me as I do my part. But I definitely have to do my part, both in prayer and in action. The truth is - and we all know - that God is the same both up in the mountains and inside our church building. We all pray that when we return to our "usual" church life, we can put all of our new knowledge, experience, and convictions to practice. Yet the often dauntingly large gap between what we're used to and what we want, mixed with the temptations of being consumed by the busyness of our daily lives, often guides us too naturally down the path of settling for the ordinary. This time, rather than simply wishing and praying for the church as a whole to change, I have a clear opportunity to be part of that change, and I must do whatever I can to make it happen. |
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